


too good to be good for me

by amortentialarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Endgame Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, and it's just cute, kind of self-indulgent, really self-indulgent, they play tag and watch deadpool, this is really long, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amortentialarry/pseuds/amortentialarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is silent for a while, and when Louis finally looks at him, his pink lips are pursed, light eyes thoughtful. "What if," Harry suggests slowly, "I pretend to be your boyfriend?"</p><p>Louis' mouth falls open. "What?"</p><p>Harry shrugs, looking down at the floor, fingers fiddling with the hem of his white button down shirt. "If you don't want to that's totally fine, but I'm just saying, I don't know, if you don't want to feel bad about that, or like I don't know, get back at Zayn, we could pretend to date? I think we could pull it off," Harry says, eyes shining. "I mean, tell me if that idea is weird, because then we can pretend I didn't say anything. But-"</p><p>"You'd do that for me?"</p><p>- </p><p>otherwise known as the one where harry pretends to be louis' boyfriend after his old boyfriend gets a new one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too good to be good for me

**Author's Note:**

> this is so self-indulgent. i LIVE for fake relationship/pining fics, so you know... here's another one haha. 
> 
> i also adore when harry bakes things and louis is picky about it and harry remembers exactly what louis likes.
> 
> ahhhhh - h

"I am _so_ excited to meet all of your high school friends," Harry says, putting a stack of neatly folded t-shirts into his duffel bag, a wide smile on his face, dimples etched into his soft cheeks.

Louis grins, jumping onto his bed. He still has to pack, but honestly, it's just a matter of throwing everything into a backpack. It's much more fun to watch Harry pack. "Yeah, seriously. You're gonna love Niall, I just know it. You two are going to hit it off like nobody's business." He lies on his back and swings his feet in the air, watching his roommate meticulously fold shorts. "Maybe I shouldn't bring you home with me. Maybe I'll leave you here over Christmas break. You and Niall are going to become best friends and leave me all alone."

Harry chuckles, shaking his head so that his dark curls fell into his face. "I'll never leave you alone," he promises, brushing his hair out of his face.

"You're a baker. Niall _loves_ food," Louis moans, covering his face with his hands and pretending to sob. "I'm going to be the third wheel!"

Harry laughs for real this time, throwing his head back and dropping the pair of socks that he grabbed from his drawer as he cackles. The first time Louis heard his laugh, he thought it was a dog wheezing. But five months later, it's one of the most endearing sounds in his world. Louis loves to make people laugh, but making Harry laugh is special.

"Who else do I get to steal from you?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow, beaming at Louis.

Louis shoots him a sour look "Nobody. My friends are mine. Stop trying to make my friends yours."

"You never appreciate all of the hard work I do, baking things for you," Harry moans, shaking his head. "Maybe Niall will give me the appreciation I crave and deserve."

"They're good, I swear," Louis says defensively as his phone vibrates in his pocket. "I'm just not into all that super sweet stuff you bring." He thinks for a moment, and then adds, "I really did like that strawberry cake you made, though."

"Bullshit," Harry snaps playfully, glaring at Louis as he picks up the socks abandoned on the dark carpet. "Five months I've been bringing different treats and you just give them all to Michael down the hall. You're just lying straight to my face now." Harry giggles to himself for a moment, and then looks at Louis, cocking his head to the side when he gets no response. "Louis?"

Harry's words sound far away, like he's hearing them from the other end of a very long tunnel. Louis doesn't know how to respond to anything; not to Harry's stupid comments, not to the text from Niall on his phone screen. He's totally caught off guard.

The bed dips as Harry takes a seat next to Louis. "Louis?" he asks, putting a hand on Louis' knee. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

Louis' chest tightens, and he feels like he's choking and breathing too fast at the same time.

"Louis?"

Harry's voice is so concerned that Louis is scared that he's going to call for an ambulance. He hands Harry the phone, without looking at him.

"Who's Zayn?" Harry asks, eyes scanning over the text. "Was he from your high school? I don't remember hearing about him."

Louis' heart skips a beat at the name, and he forces himself to take a deep breath and sit up. "My ex," he mutters, ruffling his hair.

Harry's mouth drops open. "Oh," he says, looking uncomfortable. "Ah. And we're probably going to see him, aren't we?"

Louis grimaces, trying to block out the memories that are suddenly pouring out behind the dam that he built when the break up happened. Zayn laughing, brown eyes sparking, crinkled at the ends, one lean arm slung around his waist, holding him too close but somehow not close enough. Zayn reaching out a hand to brush a crumb off of Louis' face.

Zayn.

"Yeah, we are."

"Are you…" Harry trails off, chewing his lip. "How bad was it?"

"He broke up with me the night we graduated from high school," Louis says, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Said that he didn't want to be tied down going into college or something."

That was putting it nicely. Truth be told, Zayn had told Louis that he didn't love him enough to try and keep things up long distance, and that he might as well give Louis the summer to get over Zayn before he went off to university.

Some boyfriend, huh?

"I'm sorry," Harry murmurs, and Louis shrugs, taking the phone back from Harry.

"Looks like he found himself a boyfriend," Louis chokes out. "Well, that'll be lovely! I get to be that pathetic ex-boyfriend who got ditched right before college and is still not over the break up when they meet up five months later."

Harry is silent for a while, and when Louis finally looks at him, his pink lips are pursed, light eyes thoughtful. "What if," Harry suggests slowly, "I pretend to be your boyfriend?"

Louis' mouth falls open. "What?"

Harry shrugs, looking down at the floor, fingers fiddling with the hem of his white button down shirt. "If you don't want to that's totally fine, but I'm just saying, I don't know, if you don't want to feel bad about that, or like I don't know, get back at Zayn, we could pretend to date? I think we could pull it off," Harry says, eyes shining. "I mean, tell me if that idea is weird, because then we can pretend I didn't say anything. But-"

"Harry," Louis interrupts, and Harry's mouth snaps shut, cheeks turning pink. "Are you serious?"

"I'm so sorry," Harry blurts. "I just thought-"

"You'd do that for me?"

The question hangs in the air for a while. Louis' heart, which shattered at the news of Zayn, starts to feel a glow of fondness towards Harry.

Harry's cheeks are bright pink now. "Yes?" he says, fidgeting like mad.

Louis lunges forward, throwing his arms around Harry. "You're the best fucking roommate- no, the best fucking friend in the whole entire world, you know that Harry Styles?"

Harry's arms hesitantly wrap around him. "Anything I can do to help. You're the one making sure I'm not alone over Christmas break."

And so that's how it starts. That's how Louis finds himself spending his free time with Harry going over his family members and his friends and telling him tons of stories about everyone. Which, if Louis thinks about it, is something he probably would have done anyways.

But it's fun, so fun, sitting criss-cross on the floor with Harry, telling him all the crazy stupid adventures Louis dragged all of his friends on, watching Harry throw his head back and laugh uncontrollably when Louis tells a particularly stupid story.

Two days later, Harry knows everyone in Louis' life as well as he can without actually having met any of them.

"Do you think we should practice being a couple?" Harry asks. "We're leaving tomorrow, and I don't know… it might be weird to hold hands and stuff there if we've never done it before."

"Fair point," Louis says. He clears his throat and beams at Harry. "Harold Edward Styles, will you hold my hand?"

To Louis' surprise, Harry's face turns bright red. "M-my name's not Harold," he stammers, and Louis rolls his eyes.

"Is that a no?" Louis asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not at all," Harry recovers, smiling. "It would be my pleasure, Louis William Tomlinson."

Louis grins, skipping over to where Harry's standing across the room and grabbing his hand. It feels unnaturally natural; he's never held Harry's hand before. It's just _so_ much larger than his own; he feels completely covered, but in the best way possible. Their hands fit like puzzle pieces.

"Wow," Harry comments, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks are still pink. "This is surprisingly comfortable."

Louis nods, staring at their intertwined fingers. It never felt this natural with Zayn.

Guilt slams into Louis' chest like a train, and he hates it. Why should he feel guilty? Zayn was the one who deserved to feel guilty. Besides, with Harry, it didn't even mean anything. They're just pretending.

That's when Louis resolves to be the best fake-boyfriend to Harry. He's going to show Zayn _exactly_ what he gave up when he broke things off last summer.

"Hey, Louis, you're kind of cutting off my circulation."

Louis looks up at Harry apologetically, releasing his vice-tight grip. "Sorry," he mutters, rolling his shoulders and relaxing the hand holding Harry's, rhythmically clenching his other hand. "Just had some weird thoughts."

"What thoughts?" Harry asks, thumb rubbing Louis' hand soothingly.

Louis sighs. "I'm going to need your help keeping up this whole fake boyfriend thing," he admits. "There's just been this part of me that kept hoping that when this Christmas reunion happened, Zayn would apologize and take me back. Obviously that's not going to happen so I just need help… moving on, I guess."

"Easy-peasy," Harry says. He lets go of Louis' hand and takes Louis' face in his hands, tilting his chin up so that Louis is looking up into Harry's impossibly green eyes. Louis' breath hitches.

"Listen to me," Harry whispers. "I'm going to be the best goddamn fake boyfriend the world has ever seen. I'll be so good I'll make Zayn wish that he hadn't given you up to me. You understand?"

Louis nods, and Harry beams at him.

"Excellent," he says, letting Louis go. "Now let's go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."

-

They held hands the entire plane ride, but Louis is still jumpy as a bean when they walk up to the restaurant they're all meeting at with Harry's hand in his.

"I think we should just go back home," Louis says, and Harry shakes his head.

"I'm meeting Niall if it kills me," Harry says grimly. "I'm getting the damn credit I deserve."

Louis laughs loudly, and Harry chooses that moment to open the door and tug Louis in, cheeks flushed from laughter, eyes sparkling.

He's been preparing himself for this moment for a while, but pictures and memories only go so far. When Louis sees Zayn sitting at the table, a part of him melts into nothing.

"Lou!"

Louis forces himself to drag his gaze away from Zayn just in time to turn to the blonde haired boy that's tackling him into a hug. "Lou-Lou, you made it!" Niall screeches, pressing a sloppy kiss onto his cheek.

"Gross," Louis says, laughing and wiping his face with a free hand.

"Lou-Lou?" Harry repeats, looking highly amused.

Niall looks up at Harry, beaming. "Whoa, who's this?" His blue eyes follow their arms to where their hands are intertwined, and they widen. "Holy shit, Lou, you didn't tell me-"

Harry holds out a hand. "Harry Styles," he says with a charming smile. "And I assume you're Niall Horan?"

Niall takes his hand, mouth dropped open in shock, looking at Louis. "Whoa. When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me that you were banging the guy you're bringing onto vacation?"

Louis laughs a little bit too loud at that. "No reason," he lies.

"Just so you know, Zayn's boyfriend is Liam," Niall says in a low voice. "He's a real charmer, honestly. But I'm sure you have your own feelings on that."

They walk to the table and sit across from Zayn and his boyfriend. And, because Louis is a little bitch, he finds himself sizing Liam up.

Liam's a broad-shouldered, strong-jawed brunette with dark brown puppy eyes. He laughs easily, almost as easily as Niall. He's conversational, funny and charming, if a bit of an idiot.

And that's a problem. Louis really likes Liam. They've hit it off remarkably well, chatting over the bread basket between them, laughing. Liam's a massive soccer fan, and one mention of "So, did you watch the Manchester United game last night?" set them off into a long conversation.

Louis isn't really paying much attention to Zayn until his brown eyes turn to Louis and he asks, "So, how long have you and Harry been together?"

Before Louis can freeze up and give away everything, Harry smoothly answers, "Three months. Honestly, we have university housing to thank for this. Otherwise, I would have been left admiring him from afar during Literature seminars."

Louis laughs, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. "Stop, you're so cheesy," he teases, and Harry wraps an arm around Louis' shoulders.

"It's just the truth," Harry says, with just a touch of sweetness. And really, Louis is so glad that it's Harry here with him, that Harry's such a wonderful friend. And, if he's quite honest with himself, Harry is making him feel damn special.

"That's cute as fuck," Niall says, spraying Louis with crumbs. "Fuck, can I tell that story at your wedding?"

Louis stiffens again, but Harry laughs easily and says, "All yours, big guy. You'll be my best man, won't you?"

"'Course," Niall says with a grin.

Louis looks between them. "Hold up, Harry, you can't just _steal_ my best friend to be your best man," he says indignantly. Niall and Harry both look smug.

"I called dibs," Harry teases, kissing Louis on the cheek. The skin where his lips touch tingles, and Louis fidgets in his chair, looking down at his salad, one hand unconsciously raising to touch the skin.

"Oh my _god_ you guys are too cute," Liam gushes, and Harry smiles.

"Thank you. You and Zayn are a good looking couple yourselves."

Liam grins. "It's his eyelashes. They're a miracle of God," he says, and Louis wants to punch a wall because he used to feel those eyelashes on his cheeks when they were that close.

"They're nice," Harry acknowledges, still smiling. "But Louis' eyelashes… they're sure something else."

"Oh, I know, I've been staring. Hopefully I haven't made Zayn jealous," Liam says happily, and Louis smiles. He sure hopes Zayn was jealous.

After lunch, the boys decide to go out for a pint while Louis and Harry go back to Louis' parents' place to drop off their things and get settled

"You're remarkable," Louis says as he drives. "I don't know how you're so good at this, but I think you're a better boyfriend than any I've ever had."

Harry shrugs. "I guess it comes naturally."

"You were so charming I almost wanted to kiss you," Louis comments before he can think about it too much.

Harry's cheeks are the same pink as his lips. "Maybe we should save that for when we're in front of the others," he mutters, looking out the window.

Louis' voice softens, and he reaches out one hand to put on Harry's leg. "Seriously, thank you so much," he murmurs. "You're saving my ass."

"Anything for that ass," Harry says, eyes glimmering. "But seriously, it's my pleasure. Are your parents in on the charade or should we keep it up?"

"We should keep it up. I have four little sisters who could let things slip really easily," Louis says, chewing his lip. "You're going to charm the pants off of all of them, though. They're going to be _all_ over you."

"I'm good with kids," Harry promises. "I love them."

"Excellent."

A few minutes later, Louis pulls into his driveway and parks. "Welcome to the Tommo residence," he says, beaming. "I hope you find it to your liking."

"Anywhere you're at is to my liking," Harry says, and Louis' cheeks grow warm.

"You don't have to do that here," he says uncertainly. "Just in front of the others."

Harry smiles. "I know."

As Harry grabs their bags from the trunk, Louis slowly gets out of the car, mind whirring. Harry was a lot more dangerous than he thought. He really was going to have to protect him from his family.

Thankfully, his family was out, so they were able to go up to Louis' room and set their stuff down.

"What's planned for the rest of today?" Harry asks, stretching out on the couch in Louis' room.

"Nothing, not unless Niall decides to text us. What do you want to do?" Louis asks, sitting next to Harry.

Harry scoots closer to Louis. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "We practiced holding hands and talking and such, but we haven't practiced kissing. And, if we've been dating for three months, I'd like to think we'd have kissed by now."

Louis grins, but his heart is speeding up in his chest. "No one's home, I think this would be a good opportunity."

Harry smiles, leaning close. His breath smells like mint. "May I?"

"Please," Louis whispers, and Harry slowly closes the distance between them, his lips just barely brushing Louis' before pulling back.

When their lips touch, Louis feels like he's been shocked. Before he knows what he's doing, he's lunged forward and pinned Harry against the arm of the couch, on top of him, hands tangled in his hair, kissing Harry furiously, lips moving hard against Harry's.

And the best part is that Harry is kissing him back just as hard, arms wrapped around Louis, holding him closer, fingers running through his short hair, tugging gently on the strands brushing his neck.

Harry moves down to kiss Louis' jaw, and Louis gasps fill the bedroom air.

"Some first kiss," Louis pants out, and Harry chuckles against Louis' neck.

"I don't mind," Harry murmurs, "but maybe we shouldn't go this far in front of the others."

Louis sits up, and Harry follows suit. "Shit," he mutters, shaking his head. "Sorry, I don't know why I-"

"It's fine," Harry says, panting. His lips are bright red. "Just, you know. Maybe tamer for the audience."

Louis laughs breathlessly. "Yeah, right."

Harry moves closer again and kisses him softly. Louis is very careful, barely kissing him back.

Harry pulls back. "Now I feel like I'm kissing a statue," he protests, nose wrinkling adorably. "Is it really all or nothing with you?"

"Sorry, sorry."

"How about you lead?" Harry asks, sitting back.

"We could try that," Louis says. He moves closer and presses his lips against Harry's, eyes sliding shut. Experimentally, he moves his lips, and Harry responds softly.

Now that Louis has calmed down and can actually appreciate the kiss, it reminds him of the first time they held hands. Foreign, but natural. Easy as breathing.

Louis opens his eyes slightly as he pulls back. Harry's head automatically moves forward and captures his mouth in his again, arms around Louis.

"Louis!"

They break apart, panting, eyes wide. "Oh shit," Louis whispers, looking at Harry. If he looks anything like Harry does, there's no way to hide from his family that they've been making out.

"Time to face the music," Harry says, his voice a touch hoarse. He stands up and offers a hand to Louis. "Down we go."

-

Louis wasn't wrong in thinking that he'll need to protect Harry from his family.

His four sisters are doting on him, surrounding him on the downstairs sofa. The little ones are on his lap, Fizzy and Lottie on either side.

"He's so charming," Johannah says as they watch from the kitchen. She turns a critical eye onto her son. "But watch what you two do in this house with the little ones here. I saw how you and Harry looked when you came downstairs."

Louis flushes. "Hey, it was a long trip," he mutters weakly, and Johannah elbows him.

"No excuses, you hear me?"

"I sure do."

Johannah's eyes turn fond again as she looks at Harry telling jokes to Louis' sisters. "He fits right in," she says with a happy smile. "I'm glad you picked him, Louis. He's great."

Louis smiles back a little too widely. "I'm really glad you like him," Louis says, leaning on his mom.

And as he's watching Harry bounce Daisy on his knee, he wonders what it would be like to really have Harry be his. Dating Harry was honestly never something that crossed his mind in the past, but now that he'd experienced a taste of it, he could see their entire future unraveling before them, as clearly as though he were unfurling a rug and settling it down.

Louis' phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out. His stomach twists when he sees it's Zayn calling him.

"Excuse me for a moment," Louis murmurs, getting up from where he's leaned against the kitchen counter. Right before he leaves the room, he catches Harry's concerned gaze.

Louis takes a deep breath before he answers, "Hello?"

"Hey," Zayn says. His drawl tells Louis he's smoking. "So, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend."

"Neither did you," Louis answers, on the defensive.

Zayn sighs. "That's true enough. I guess I was just taken off guard."

"Does it bother you?"

Louis almost regrets asking the question, but honestly, he's been dying to know.

Zayn takes a beat too long to answer, "No, no. I've got Liam. I'm glad you found someone too."

Before Louis can answer, Harry calls, "Babe!" loudly. Loud enough that Zayn can probably hear it.

"Yeah, I'm glad. Harry's amazing," Louis says tightly.

He can almost see Zayn on the other end, probably leaning on his porch railing, a cigarette dangling lazily from his thin fingers, smoke leaking from his parted lips, nodding along to Louis' words. "Good lad," he murmurs. "I was ready to hate whoever you found to replace me, but I actually approve of Harry. I'm growing soft."

Louis forces out a laugh. "Glad you like him. For what it's worth, Liam's great."

"Liam's got half a mind to ditch me for you. I'm sure, if you weren't already taken, he would," Zayn says somberly, but there's a teasing edge to his tone. "I'm lucky Harry's there."

"So am I," Louis says, and he doesn't even have to try to sound sincere. It comes out naturally, with a touch of fondness. "Really, truly lucky."

Zayn is silent for a moment before he says, "Do you think about us at all?"

"Of course," Louis says, feeling that it would be to his disadvantage to divulge just how much. "Don't you?"

"Naturally, since I'm the one who initiated the break up," Zayn says. "I wonder, if I hadn't been such a prick, could we have been happy?"

Louis sighs. "Who knows, Zay?"

"I think we would have been," Zayn says lowly. "In fact, I know we would have. You and I were pretty much perfect, except for my idiocy."

"It is what it is," Louis says. "It's not much use dwelling over what's long gone and passed."

"True." A pause, and then Zayn blurts, "But I really wanted to kiss you when I saw you."

Oh.

Before Louis can answer, Harry bursts out of the kitchen yelling, "Babe! Oh my god, you have to come see this trick Phoebe can do. Can you do that thing with your tongue too?"

Zayn chuckles dryly. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. We're both in committed relationships, right? No use ruining everything for nothing."

Louis swallows. "Right."

"See you, Lou," Zayn whispers, his voice rough.

"Bye, Zay."

They listen to each other on dead air for a moment, and then Louis finally breaks it off, sick of hearing the space between them.

Harry grabs Louis' arm and pulls him close, crushing him into a hug. "Babe?"

"Just, Zayn called," Louis says. "Just surprised."

Harry kisses his nose, and Louis blinks rapidly. "Okay, but seriously, can you do the tongue thing?" Harry asks, cocking his head to the side. "Can you do the foldy thing- yes! Yes, that thing! Whoa, what the hell, how does your tongue do that?"

And so that's how Louis forgets about Zayn's call. Showing Harry tricks with his tongue and laughing at the absolute delight on his face.

"Hey, you lovebirds, what do you reckon for dinner?" Johannah asks, poking her head in through the door.

"Anything," Louis answers absently, looking at Harry. "Anything will be great."

Harry tears his gaze away to look at Johannah. "Actually, Niall's dragging us out to eat," he tells her, smiling. "You don't mind, do you?"

Johannah's smile is too big to be innocent. "Oh no, not at all!" she exclaims, beaming at them. "Bless you, getting Lou to get out and about. You're a charmer, really, thank you so much Harry. Me and the girls will figure things out on our own."

She disappears again, and Louis turns to Harry. "When the hell did Niall plan to drag us out?"

Harry leans in suddenly, and Louis' breath hitches in his throat, his heart thudding in his chest.

Harry chuckles, his nose barely brushing Louis'. "He didn't," Harry murmurs, cool breath washing over Louis' lips. "I'm taking you out."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry is driving Louis' car. And Louis has no idea where the hell they're going.

"Where-"

"Sh," Harry says without taking his eyes off the road. "I saw it when we were driving in… Ah, yes! Here."

Harry turns into a small parking lot, and Louis raises an eyebrow when he realizes where they are.

"The elementary school? Really?"

"I love playgrounds," Harry says, grinning. Suddenly, he jabs Louis on the arm and shouts, "Tag, you're it!"

Before Louis can really figure out what's going on, Harry's out of the car, running across the parking lot to the playground, car keys bulging from his back pocket.

Louis can't help the smile spreading across his face. "Oh, you motherfucker," Louis whispers, getting out of the car and sprinting after Harry.

Harry looks over his shoulder and sees Louis following him. He lets out a loud laugh and starts running faster. "Catch me if you can!" he yells, laughing.

"I played soccer, you loser, I'll catch you if it kills me!"

And that's how Louis ends up chasing Harry through the playground, jumping up stairs and clamboring down slides. That's how he runs after Harry on the field for five minutes until he finally snags Harry's shirt, causing them to both tumble to the grass, laughing into the sunset streaked sky.

They sit on the swings, barely moving, just breathing deep and watching the sky fade into a dark, rich black velvet studded with diamond stars.

"Thank you," Louis whispers, looking down at the tops of his now grass-stained sneakers.

He can feel Harry's quizzical gaze. "What for?"

Louis shrugs, swinging his feet. "Just for coming. For doing everything." He looks up and meets Harry's gaze. "For taking me out here so I wouldn't keep thinking about Zayn. For acting like a real boyfriend."

Harry's lips curve into the slightest smile. "Just because I'm not your real boyfriend doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Louis' eyes are pricking, so he drops his gaze again, staring hard at the sand for a moment before saying, "I know this great burger place a few minutes away. We should go actually get some food."

"That sounds remarkable," Harry says, beaming. "I'm not going to lie, I was waiting for you to suggest food."

Louis laughs. "Fat ass."

"Excuse you, have you even seen your ass?" Harry asks as they walk back to the car.

Louis shoves his arm. "You love this ass."

"Fair enough," Harry agrees, beaming.

Over burgers, Louis asks, "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

Harry shrugs. "Um, yeah?" He swallows his food and scratches the back of his neck. "Never was really into the whole relationship thing, though."

Louis is so surprised he drops a french fry. "But, I thought… You're so good at this."

Harry grins, picking the abandoned french fry up off Louis' plate and eating it. "I guess."

He doesn't elaborate, so Louis lets it drop. They go to the diner next door and split a milkshake, which turns out to be a lot messier than strictly necessary. Probably because Louis enjoys blowing bubbles into the shake right when Harry goes to take a sip 

Later that night, just before Louis drops off to sleep, Harry whispes, "That was the best date I've ever been on."

Louis' breath hitches, and he's about to respond when Harry sadly adds, "Except it wasn't even a real date."

Louis stares up at the ceiling, wide awake. He rolls over and looks at the floor to ask Harry what he meant, only to see Harry curled up, asleep, on the air mattress.

-

"Good morning!"

Louis sits up, rubbing his eyes. He blinks a few times and opens his eyes to slits, peering at the door.

Harry's head is poked into the bedroom, eyes bright, a wide smile on his face. "It's breakfast time!" he cheers, too loud.

Louis cringes, running his hand through his hair. It's sticking up completely on one side. Fantastic. "Fuck breakfast, nobody needs it," Louis mutters, falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers over his head, closing his eyes.

A moment later, the covers are ripped off him. Louis curls into a little ball and whines in protest. "Give 'em back," he mumbles, making weak grabbing motions with one hand.

"Aw, like a little baby hedgehog," Harry says, beaming at him.

"Go eat your damn breakfast and let me sleep." Maybe if he closes his eyes, he'll just fall asleep. He doesn't need a blanket.

"Louis."

Louis opens his eyes. Harry's face is right in front of his. "Good morning, love," Harry murmurs, smiling gently. "Won't you come have some pancakes?"

Louis' eyes are fully open now. "Uh-"

Harry smiles. "I'll wait for you."

"Uh-huh." Louis can only stare.

Five minutes later, Louis shuffles downstairs, stretching and yawning loudly.

"Louis!" his sisters chorus from the dining table.

"Your boyfriend makes the best pancakes," Lottie says. "I love him."

"Sorry love, taken," Harry says, setting down a steaming plate of pancakes on the table. He walks over to Louis and presses a light kiss on his cheek. "Good morning," he murmurs lowly before walking to the stove.

Louis stares. "Are you wearing an apron?"

"Isn't it darling?" Fizzy gushes, beaming.

Harry flushes a shade not unlike the apron tied around his waist. It's patterned with white polka dots, frilly at the knees.

"You look good," Louis says stiffly. "Er, really good."

"Louis has an apron kink, oh my god," Lottie blurts, and Louis goes bright red.

"Lottie!"

"Nailed it," Fizze agrees.

Harry's face is bright red when he hands Louis a plate of pancakes. There are strawberries on top of the stack. "You like strawberries, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah," Louis says, setting the plate down on the counter, snagging a fork and starting to eat. "Whoa."

"Good?" Harry asks, wiping his hands.

Louis nods, his mouth full.

"Kiss the cook!" Daisy shrieks, beaming.

"Yes!" Phoebe agrees.

Louis blushes deeper. At this rate, his face is most likely near the same shade as the strawberries. "Why not?"

Harry leans over the counter. Louis reaches out a hand, lightly touching his face before pecking a kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry pulls back quickly, licking his lips. "Sweet," he whispers, and the girls squeal from the table.

"Louis, don't ever let Harry go," Daisy says.

And Louis realizes his mistake. He should have known from the start that his family would fall in love with Harry, that they would expect to know everything from now on out. He should have known.

"I won't let him ditch me that easy, don't worry," Harry says easily, winking as he washes his hands. He looks at Louis' shell-shocked expression and gently says, "Eat up, babe."

With each bite of strawberry pancake, Louis falls a little bit more in love with who Harry is.

They're scheduled for lunch with Niall, so they excuse themselves from the breakfast table early.

"Let's go shopping," Harry says absently, lying on Louis' bed.

"Shopping?" Louis asks, spinning around in his desk chair. "What do you need?"

"Information," Harry says, grabbing Louis' car keys with one hand and Louis' hand with the other. "Is there a shopping mall nearby here?" 

"Close enough," Louis says, shrugging. "What kind of information?"

Harry grins. "You'll see."

Louis questions him the entire way to the mall, but Harry is reticent, revealing nothing. 

"Come on, Styles," Louis begs as they walk through racks of clothing. "We're here. Just tell me."

Harry purses his lips. "Tell me about your family," he says, going through a rack of flowing button down shirts.

Louis cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Your family," Harry repeats, pulling out a sheer black shirt, holding it up to himself. "I want to hear about your family.

"It's not very interesting," Louis says, shrugging.

"Your mom is on her third husband, yes?"

"Er, yeah," Louis says.

"So your sisters are really your half-sisters."

"Well, yeah."

"Mm," Harry hums, draping the black shirt over his arm and pulling out a floral one. "When did your family find out you were gay?"

Louis blushes bright red. "I- er, it, well-"

"I'm just curious. My mom found out in year six, when she walked in on me snogging my English project partner." Harry looks up at Louis' shocked expression, grinning.

"Last year, when I started dating Zayn, is when my family formally found out," Louis mutters. "It was mostly just experimental hook ups until then."

"Ah." Harry looks at the floral shirt a moment more, and then holds it out for Louis to inspect. "What do you think?"

"It's alright," Louis says, still confused. "Why do you want to know this stuff?"

Harry sighs, putting the floral shirt back on the rack. "Because, believe it or not, you're fascinating. Lottie told me you're all half-siblings, and yet you love them like they're your own children. You didn't like Lottie's dad at all, and yet you love his kids. I'm trying to figure out what exactly makes you so amazing. Saying you're just an angel isn't quite satisfying enough," Harry says, smiling.

Louis is rooted to the spot. "Oh," is all he says, shuffling his feet. "Huh. Well."

Harry checks his phone. "Time for lunch," he says, tossing Louis the keys. "I'm going to buy this shirt and then let's head out."

Louis watches Harry turn and walk to the register, hips swaying, curls gently bouncing.

And Louis thinks that he just might be a little screwed.

-

A week later, halfway through Christmas break, Louis feels like he needs to reevaluate his life. He can feel himself falling for his roommate and fake boyfriend. At university, he and Harry didn't spend all that much time together; most of the time they were out studying at their different classes.

Here, they were together twenty four hours a day. Not to mention that Harry was perhaps the most doting boyfriend to exist in the world. Louis felt a sense of comfort and stability when Harry was holding his hand, or leaning against him, or even just looking at him, glimmering green eyes staring into blue.

And Louis hopes that Harry hasn't noticed the change in behavior, hasn't noticed how often Louis grabs his hand when nobody is there to see, hasn't noticed how Louis leans into Harry, steals kisses on the cheek.

Sometimes, Louis needs to press his lips together and look up to keep from smiling too widely at Harry's stupid antics. Harry's an absolute idiot. The time he woke Louis up with a whipped cream beard was almost too much for Louis to handle.

He took advantage of that situation. A combination of Harry and whipped cream could be dangerously addictive.

"Hey, Louis?"

Louis looks over from where he's folding laundry. "What's up?"

"Liam just texted me and asked it we wanted to go catch a movie with him and Zayn," Harry says, reading off his phone before looking at Louis. "What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me," Louis says. "You down?"

"Sure."

"What're we watching?" Louis asks, folding another pair of socks.

"Deadpool, apparently," Harry answers. "Rated R, ooh."

"You idiot," Louis says affectionately, quietly admiring the way the sun slanting in through the window stains Harry's curls blonde.

Harry beams up at him. "You love me."

Louis forces a smile. "That's debatable."

Harry raises an eyebrow and moves to sit next to Louis on the couch. He puts one hand on Louis' face so that they're nose-to-nose. "Really, now?" Harry asks, and Louis nods.

"Even if I do this?" Harry asks, pressing a soft kiss against Louis' lips.

Louis draws a shaky breath. "Yes?"

Harry chuckles. "What about this?" he asks, kissing Louis with more force, sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Louis shudders, eyes sliding shut as Harry pulls back. "Fuck," he whispers. "Don't be a tease."

"Don't you love me?" Harry asks, his deep voice sending chills through Louis.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" he asks, kissing Louis' neck.

Louis can't even answer. He's stretching his neck out so that Harry can reach more, his fingers gently tugging on Harry's curls. "Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck."

Harry pulls back, chuckling lowly. He stands up and walks towards Louis' bedroom. "You've got laundry to finish. I have to get ready," he says, winking.

Louis slumps against the sofa, heart beating hard. His lips and neck are tingling where Harry's lips touched him.

He can't even deny it anymore. He's kind of hopelessly in love with Harry.

"You're shit at doing chores. That shouldn't surprise me, roomie," Harry teases. He's wearing tight black jeans and that sheer black shirt he bought the other day. His favorite brown boots are zipped on. "Come on, I'll finish up. Go get dressed."

Louis stares. "Uh-huh," he says, not moving.

Harry laughs. "Seriously, go."

Louis escapes to his bedroom and flops down onto his bed, face buried in his pillow.

Fuck, he's in love with Harry.

Harry, who has been his roommate for five months. Harry, who has a stupid laugh. Harry, who baked pancakes for all his sisters. Harry, who pretended to be his boyfriend just so that he wouldn't feel so bad in front of his ex-boyfriend.

Harry, who's in the other room, folding laundry, oblivious to just how Louis feels.

Louis closes his eyes. It's two days before Christmas. He has a present for Harry, but honestly, all he can think about is being caught under the mistletoe with him so he has an excuse to really kiss him.

"Louis? We have to leave," Harry says through the door. "Hurry up, slowpoke."

"Coming!" Louis calls, jumping up. He changes his shirt and pulls on a jacket, jamming sneakers onto his shoes before popping out of the bedroom. He smiles at Harry. "Ready to go."

"Fantastic." Harry offers an arm. "Shall we?"

Louis takes it, smiling. "We shall."

The two arrive to the theatre before Liam and Zayn. They buy tickets, and Louis buys them a popcorn to share.

"Harry!"

They turn around and see Liam and Zayn walking in, fingers interlocked. "Hey, guys," Harry says, waving to them, one hand resting on Louis' waist.

"Glad you two could come," Liam says, hugging first Harry and then Louis. "This movie is supposed to be really good."

"I adored the comics with Deadpool," Harry says.

Liam's mouth drops open so wide Louis swears it almost hits the floor. "You like the comics?"

"Of course."

Liam's practically jumping up and down. "YOU LIKE THE COMICS!"

"Yes!"

Liam tackles Harry into a hug. "I love you," Liam whispers, and Harry laughs.

Louis feels this irrational jealousy welling up, watching the two of them hug. He wants to rip Liam off of Harry, and is only restrained by Zayn sidling over to him and saying, "They make a nice couple."

Louis chokes. "Right. Great. Beautiful."

Zayn sighs. "Boys, can you geek out in the theatre? We've got a movie to catch."

The movie is really good itself, but Louis' favorite part is Harry's laughter at the strangest times. He finds himself watching Harry almost as much as he's watching the movie.

After the movie, Harry and Liam walk out together, freaking out over everything.

"And did you see-"

"Yes! And when Vanessa-"

"And when Deadpool stabbed-"

"Oi, Lou," Zayn says quietly, nodding off to the side. "'Mind if we chat?"

"Not at all, Louis says, watching Harry laugh.

Zayn leads them around the corner of the movie theatre. He takes a deep breath and sighs. "Lou, I just-"

"Zay?"

Zayn moves closer, and Louis realizes they're too close. "I just wanted… one last time…"

And before Louis really knows what's happening, Zayn is kissing him, fingers tangled in his fringe. Louis moans quietly because it's so familiar, so good, everything he was missing. His eyes slide shut, and he moans again when Zayn tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

And suddenly, he's being ripped off Zayn. "Excuse me," Harry says lowly, one arm wrapped securely around Louis. "But I believe that's my boyfriend you're kissing."

For the first time, Louis is scared of Harry. Suddenly, Louis feels so small. Harry's arm is tight, strong. His jaw is tight, and his intense gaze is fixed on Zayn. Harry's normally Louis' little cupcake, but right now, he looks like he could punch Zayn.

"Zayn?"

Louis looks over at Liam, and he looks honestly heartbroken. Guilt floods over Louis in hard, crushing waves. Liam's dark eyes are drooping, and Liam's mouth is quivering.

"Li, babe-"

Zayn takes one step towards Liam, but Liam turns and runs off.

"Fuck," Zayn swears, running after him.

He and Harry stand behind the theatre, the peaceful night air suddenly tense.

"Er-"

"Louis." Harry cuts Louis off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What exactly just happened?"

"Zayn kissed me."

"Yes, and?"

"I… I kissed him back."

Harry sighs. "Huh."

Louis feels nothing but shame. "It was just, I think we both needed to get it out of our systems. It's happened, and now it's over."

"So is Zayn and Liam's relationship," Harry says, shaking his head. "Look, Louis, I offered to do this because I wanted to help you. And I wanted to help you because I thought you were someone worth helping and sacrificing for." His eyes are sad. "I don't want to admit I was wrong."

Louis eyes are filling with tears. "Harry," he whispers, a tear falling down his cheek. "Harry please. I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You need to apologize to Liam," Harry says, looking away from Louis. "He really loved Zayn, you know that?"

"Yes," Louis whispers, and Harry nods.

"Good." Harry shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs. He pulls out the car keys and tosses them to Louis. "I'll meet you home later." He turns and starts walking.

Louis catches the keys, feeling numb. "You're not… coming?"

"I'll see you there," Harry says without turning around.

Louis is frozen until Harry has disappeared from sight.

The boy he has fallen in love with sees him as a heartless cheater.

He pulls his phone out and dials Liam's number.

The phone rings, and Louis half-expects to leave a long, tearful voicemail when Liam answers, "Hello?"

And God, he sounds like hell. His voice is hoarse and thick with tears and Louis hates himself for doing this to Liam. "I'm so sorry," he blurts.

"It's not your fault," Liam mumbles, sniffling. "Zayn explained everything to me. It's really not your fault. I'm sorry about what he did to you last summer."

Louis could cry, because only Liam would apologize to the guy who just made out with his boyfriend.

Liam sniffs again and continues, "It's just, I really loved him, you know? No, not loved, who am I kidding, I still do. And I guess I always felt like I wasn't good enough for him. I mean, you're so cool! And I'm just this nerd who can't even hold a candle to Zayn." Liam sighs. "I don't even have a ride home."

"I've got my car," Louis says. "Let me take you home."

A few minutes later, Louis is sitting beside Liam in a dark car in an empty parking lot. And it's weird. Louis had a lot of thoughts about how this break would go, and yet he never expected to spend time comforting his ex-boyfriend's new boyfriend.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," Liam says, blowing his nose into a movie theatre napkin. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and lets out a shuddering breath, trying to offer Louis a watery smile. "I hope things with you and Harry are still okay, though. He's a great, great guy."

"He's not my real boyfriend."

Louis doesn't know what makes him say it. The words hang in the silence around them, and Liam gapes at Louis, mouth open.

"What?"

Before he can think too hard about it, Louis tells Liam everything. He tells him about how Zayn ditched him at the beginning of summer, how he never really got over it. He tells Liam about Harry offering to be his fake boyfriend, and how they've just been pretending this entire time, telling him everything all the way up to how he and Liam ended up in the car together

After he's done, Liam is silent for a moment. And then he slowly asks, "Are you sure it's fake?"

Louis sighs, staring at the steering wheel. "Positive," he whispers, swallowing hard.

"You love him, don't you?"

Louis' head snaps up, and he looks into Liam's knowing eyes. "How did you know?"

"The way you talk about him. How hurt you looked when he just walked away tonight."

"That obvious, huh?"

"No," Liam says, shaking his head. "I just know what it's like to be in love."

Louis is crying now. "Liam, I love him," he whispers, tears silently streaming down his face. "I love him and he thinks I'm a dirty cheater."

Liam hands him a napkin from the glove compartment. "I wouldn't make assumptions," he says. "Go ask him."

"I don't know where he is," Louis moans. "He disappeared. He walked away. I don't know when he'll come back home." Louis checks the time. "Oh fuck, it's 11:50. Let me get you back home."

They drive in silence, except for the occasional sniffle. Finally, they've pulled into Liam's driveway, and he parks, killing the engine.

"Thank you," Liam says, brown eyes shining. "Seriously. It means a lot for you to be so honest with me."

"I hope things work out with you and Zayn," Louis says earnestly.

"I think they will," Liam says, smiling slightly as he shakes his head. "I'm too in love with him."

Louis smiles. "Take care."

"I will. Let's get together soon." Liam waves and closes the door, running to his house, his breath creating small puffs of steam.

Louis pulls out of the driveway and starts home. It's extra lonely, and it takes Louis a few minutes to realize why.

With Harry here, he's never been alone. He's always had a companion, always had someone by his side. He's grown accustomed, just in time to lose him. 

And that's when Louis really starts crying. He's sobbing as he drives home, and he's lucky there's no one else driving because road is pretty much just a blur. He wipes his eyes, lips trembling as he cries, parking in his driveway. All of the lights are off, including his bedroom. Harry's still gone.

As he walks in, Louis leaves the door unlocked. He presses a hand to his mouth to keep quiet as he sneaks into his room, determined not to wake anyone up.

The room is dark and empty. Too heartbroken to care, Louis falls onto the bed in his jeans, crying into his pillow, chest aching dully when he finally runs out of tears. 

Hours pass, and Harry is nowhere. 12:30AM on Christmas Eve, his birthday, and Louis is curled up alone in bed with nothing but a tear-soaked pillow.

Around one in the morning, the door cracks open. 

Louis sits up immediately. "Harry?" he croaks, voice hoarse.

"No, sorry love, it's me," Johannah says, turning on the light. She sees Louis and cries, "Oh, Lou! What's wrong?"

"Harry," is all Louis can manage before falling back into tears. 

Harry isn't back.

Johannah sits next to him on the bed and puts her arms around him. Louis cries into her shoulder, chest heaving as he tries to breathe through the tears. 

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispers into his hair. "He'll come back."

Except he doesn't. Louis falls asleep in his mother's arms and, for the first time in months, wakes up alone. None of his sisters say anything about Harry, and he can only guess that his mom told them to stay quiet.

They give Louis his birthday presents, and Louis feels his heart twist when he sees a small, silver wrapped present with a red bow. 

"To Louis" is written on the tag in familiar loopy handwriting. This present is from Harry.

Louis slowly opens the present, sliding the bow off and neatly unwrapping the paper.

Inside, there's a beat up brown notebook and a card. Following tradition, Louis opens the card first.

In the same loopy handwriting as the tag, he reads:

 _Dear Louis,_  

_Happy Birthday._

_I've never told you this, but I quite like that your birthday is on Christmas Eve. Like you're the present that we get to open on Christmas Eve. Does everyone do that? Or is that just my family?_

_You're a great roommate and an even greater friend. I love how you always make me smile and make me laugh my ugly laugh. You've made the last few months of my life the best ever, and I've actually had a wonderful time being your fake boyfriend. You're a damn good kisser._

_Hope you have the best birthday ever. I hope you like the present._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Louis opens the notebook. Inscribed on the first page is another little note.

_You inspire quite a lot of poetry._

Louis flips through the pages slowly, and finds the pages filled with scrawls. Poem after poem after poem. Some of them long, some of them short. Each of them with a title.

Louis doesn't realize he's crying until a tear falls onto the page. 

Before he can even wipe his eyes, his phone starts ringing in his room. He excuses himself quietly and goes to answer it, clutching the notebook in one hand. 

When he sees the Caller ID, he almost crumples to the floor.

_Harold Styles_

As it is, he falls into bed and answers shakily, "Hello?"

"Hey, Louis. Happy Birthday." 

If he wasn't already crying, hearing Harry's low, gravelly voice would have made him come undone. "Where are you?" he whispers.

"I'm back at university," Harry says. "You can tell everyone you broke up with me. I don't mind, whatever story you want to feed them."

Harry doesn't sound mad, is the thing. He just sounds sad and tired. Like he's just run out.

"Harry, I'm sorry." Louis sniffs. "Come back."

"I can't. But I'll see you when you get back, okay?" Harry's voice is kind, which only makes Louis more desperate.

"Why did you leave?" he asks, tears flowing down his face freely, dripping off his chin onto his pajama pants.

Harry sighs for a long while. "My being there wasn't helping anything," he says. "I thought I could help, but you and Zayn get on just fine it seems. Honestly, I'm just more comfortable back here. You should enjoy your time home." Harry's voice has grown concerned; he's probably picked up on the fact that Louis is sobbing into the phone.

Louis whispers, "It's not home without you here."

Harry's voice is confused when he says, "Louis, that's your home. You've got your family and friends there."

"Home isn't a place," Louis says, shaking his head violently. "No, it's not. Home is a feeling. Home is somewhere with warmth and comfort and happiness and belonging and completeness." Louis sniffs again, wiping at his eyes. "It's not home without you, Harry." 

"Goddamn it," Harry sighs. "Don't do this to me, Louis. I can only give you so much."

 Louis bites his tongue. He wants all of Harry, in truth, but he doesn't even deserve to ask. "I know," he says weakly, his voice small.

 "I'll see you when you come back. It's only a couple of weeks, right? We spent the last six months together as roommates. Maybe we should have this break," Harry says cautiously. 

"Why were you so angry?" Louis asks. "Why were you so mad when you saw… us doing that?"

"Because Louis," Harry snaps. "You destroyed Liam. Liam was literally telling me about how he was going to propose to Zayn one day when we walk around to find him pinning you to a wall. Of course I played up the protective boyfriend card, but honestly, I was trying to remind Zayn that he was Liam's, not yours." 

The little bubble of hope that Harry felt the same, the blossom that Louis had been fostering, popped.

"I know I messed up. But Liam said he's going to forgive Zayn." Louis sniffs again. "I told him all about us. The truth."

"Alright."

The line is silent for a while, and then Harry says, "I'll see you when you get back."

"Okay," Louis whispers. He doesn't want the conversation to end.

"Have a good birthday."

"I'll try."

"Goodbye."

The line goes dead. 

-

Christmas morning brings nothing but heartache to Louis.

Harry's air mattress is still set up in his room, his blankets still splayed out. Louis buries his face in the covers and inhales, a sharp sting of loneliness piercing him as he smells Harry's scent.

"I miss you," Louis whispers, looking out the window to the sky, wondering what Harry could be doing under it.

Christmas passes in a vague blur of loud noises, ripped wrapping paper and barely restrained tears. Louis spends a lot of the day looking down at his feet, pressing his lips together and trying not to cry.

Around three in the afternoon, when Louis is playing dolls quietly with Daisy and Phoebe, Johannah calls, "Lou?"

Without saying a word, Louis stands up and gives Phoebe the doll he's holding. He walks to his mom, following her out of the living room. "Hi."

She pulls him into a hug. "Lou, baby, I think you need to go back."

Guilt washes over Louis, breaking through the endless pain of the day. "Shit, Mom, I've been a terrible son, haven't I?" he mumbles, pulling back and staring at the ground. 

"I don't blame you in the slightest for being unhappy," Johannah tuts. "I just… God, it's so hard seeing my baby boy hurting like this. I can't stand it."

Louis bows his head. "I'd go back, but my flight isn't for another week."

Johannah pulls him into another hug and slips a folded piece of paper into his hand. "I love you," she says, walking back to the living room.

He knows what the paper is before he unfolds it. 

A flight back to university, scheduled to leave in two hours.

That gives him just enough time to pack, get to the airport, go through security… just enough… if he leaves now.

He has no time to waste. 

Louis runs to his room, shouting a "Thanks Mom!" over his shoulder. He shoves all his things into his duffel and his necessities into a beat up backpack. He slings them each on one shoulder and runs out, duffel thumping against his thigh. "I'll call you!"

"Tell Harry we love him!" Phoebe yells.

Louis smiles for the first time in ages. "I will."

He runs out of the house and jumps into his car, throwing his things into the passenger seat and starting the car at the same time. And if he's speeding a little bit on the way to the airport, well, he really can't be bothered.

The airport is bustling with people flying in and out for Christmas. Louis takes a moment after going through security to map out a route to his terminal before setting off in a sprint. People see him coming and move out of the way. 

As Louis reaches the terminal, he wonders how crazy he looks; this disheveled small brunette barreling through the airport with a duffel bag flying everywhere.

Can he help himself? He's in love. 

The plane ride is almost torture. He wants to speed up the plane. It feels like a lifetime has passed when the pilot finally announces their descent. 

Louis grabs his things and sprints out of the gate. In ten minutes, he's managed to catch a bus and is rattling back to university. 

He looks out the window, taking a breather for the first time in hours. The sky is bright orange; the sun dipping below the horizon. As the bus pulls up the the university stop, the sky has turned black. Louis runs to the dorm, taking the stairs two at a time. 

He comes to a stop in front of their door. It's cracked open, with light spilling out into the hall.

Louis takes a deep breath and pushes it open.

Harry's back is to him. There's loud Christmas music blasting, and Harry is dancing in a red sweater and a pair of boxers. He's holding a red plastic cup, and based on his dance moves, he's tipsy.

Louis clears his throat, and Harry yelps, tripping and dropping the cup. 

"Shit, sorry Harry, are you okay?" Louis asks, dropping his bag and running over to him.

"Sure," Harry says, brushing Louis off and sitting up. "Cup was empty, anyways." He seems to register Louis and tilts his head. "What are you doing here?"

"I came back for you," Louis whispers, looking into Harry's eyes. "I missed you too much."

Harry's green eyes look anguished. "Louis…"

Louis grabs Harry's red sweater, bending down and pressing his lips against Harry's. They taste like alcohol. He kisses Harry hesitantly, eyes sliding shut.

Harry takes a while to respond, strong arms wrapping around him. "Shit, Louis," Harry whispers when they pull away from each other, staring.

 Louis scrambles to his feet. "I'm sorry."

 "I'm… the… it… uh, I'm-" Harry shakes his head, one finger touching his red lip. "Why are you here? How?"

 "My mom got me a plane ticket."

"But why?"

"Because I missed you, Harry," Louis says, as though it couldn't be more obvious. 

Harry shakes his head again, curls flying. "Louis, people don't just buy plane tickets because they miss their roommate." He looks at Louis, concerned. "What happened?"

_I fell in love with you._

"I-"

Silence hovers between them. "What?" Harry whispers. 

Louis wants to say everything, but he sits tight-lipped. "I-"

"Well, since you can't really talk, I guess I'll do some talking," Harry says, standing up and lying down on his bed, hands folded behind his head. "You know, Louis, that you're attractive, right?"

Louis makes a strangled kind of noise in response. 

Harry's eyes close, and he continues, "You're smart, funny, adorable, good looking, and God, that ass. I've had a major crush on you since I first laid eyes on you." 

Louis' breathing is much too short and loud, but Harry ignores it.

"Every moment we spent fake dating, I was hoping you would see what I could offer you in real life. You know? I was hoping you'd see how good we could be. Fake dating you… It was like a confirmation to all of my best fantasies." Harry's voice is wobbly when he adds, "Until I saw you kissing Zayn. 

"That's when I thought it was over, when I thought I was wasting my time. I invested myself in something that probably wouldn't ever be real. I got caught up in the game. And I had to leave before I lost my mind."

Louis gets up and sits next to Harry on the bed, legs curled up to his chest.

"Harry? Harry, please look at me." 

Harry opens his green eyes, and they're swimming with tears.

Louis leans close, so close Harry becomes out of focus. "I love you, Harry."

Harry's hands creep up Louis' sides. "I love you, Lou."

Louis takes that as plenty of invitation to move forward and kiss Harry. He kisses him softly, lips gently moving against Harry's.

He doesn't think he's ever had a kiss as good as this. 

-

Later that night, when Harry is snuggled up in Louis' side (because God knows why, he likes being the little spoon), Louis observes, "You called me Lou."

Harry shrugs. "I didn't notice. I guess I picked it up from all your friends and family."

Louis plants a kiss on the top of Harry's head. "You don't say it quite like anyone else." 

Harry cuddles further into Louis. "You're not quite like anyone else." 

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

As Louis' eyes drift shut, he hears Harry whisper, "Merry Christmas, Lou." 

-

_Four years later._

"Harry, my boy!" 

Niall barrels into Harry, throwing his arms around him. "Jesus, I haven't seen you in ages! I missed you, lad!"

Harry hugs Niall back tightly. "I missed you, too."

"Also, did you bake all of this stuff?" Niall asks, gesturing to the platters laden with baked goods.

Harry nods. "Yep."

Niall looks at Harry worshipfully. "Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you. Fuck, marry me."

Harry grins. "Get in line."

Niall swats Harry with one hand and grabs a croissant with the other. "Fuck off."

Harry checks his watch for perhaps the thirtieth time within the last minute.

Louis' mom was supposed to bring him here half an hour ago, to celebrate the production of his first small theatre production, _The Convenient Struggle_. It was rare for a playwright fresh out of university to have a play produced, and Harry couldn't be prouder of his boyfriend. Although the play had been produced during February, Louis and Harry hadn't been able to come back home for a few months.

Harry is kind of sweaty. He checks his watch yet again, scans the room, and then twitches his fingers against the smooth wood surface of the table.

The food is set, the decorations are set, the people are set up… except for Louis himself.

Suddenly, Johannah's voice drifts down the hall through the door. "Really, congrats on your play."

"Thanks, Mom, you've said it a million times," Louis says, sounding confused.

Johannah throws open the door to the dining room, and everyone shouts "Congratulations!"

Louis looks absolutely stunned, looking around at a room full of his favorite people. "What's this?" Louis asks.

"A surprise party," Liam says smugly, beaming at him. "Congratulations on your play!"

"Li and I can't wait to see it," Zayn says, arm looped through Liam's.

It takes a few moments of Louis wading through a load of hugs and kisses for him to reach Harry. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend and says into his chest, "This is all you, isn't it?"

"It's all you, you mean," Harry corrects quietly, heart beating hard.

Louis hears his heartbeat accelerate, and pulls back to look up at Harry. "Babe?"

Harry feels faint, but he forces himself onward, his jacket pocket feeling extremely heavy. "I'm fine."

Louis looks concerned. "Are you sure? Please tell me you didn't wear yourself out for this."

Harry shakes his head, trying to smile. "No, I'm just… kind of nervous."

Louis cocks his head to the side. "Nervous?"

 _Now or never_ , Harry thinks.

He sinks onto one knee.

Louis' hands fly to his mouth, and there's an audible gasp.

"Look at Harry!" Liam whispers.

Harry pulls a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket. "Louis Tomlinson," he starts, swallowing hard. "I love you." Louis is crying, which makes Harry start to choke up. "God, I've loved you for five years now, and I'll love you for a million more. You're my everything, Lou, and I-"

Louis throws his arms around Harry, burying his face into his neck. "Yes," he breathes into his ear, tears falling onto Harry's skin. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Harry pulls him into a kiss, and everyone bursts into cheers. He opens the box and slides a simple silver band onto Louis' finger.

"It's perfect," Louis whispers, holding it up.

Harry presses a kiss onto the ring. "Mine."

"Yours," Louis agrees.

Over Louis' shoulder, Johannah is crying violently into a tissue. Lottie and Fizzie are squealing. Next to them, Harry's mom Anne has one hand pressed to her mouth, silent tears streaming down her face, but her eyes are smiling.

Harry grasps Louis' hand, and he feels the cool metal of the silver ring.

It never felt better than this.

They cut the celebration cake together, surreptitiously smearing frosting on the other when one isn't looking.

"Strawberry," Louis says, licking frosting off his finger. "Interesting choice."

Harry grins. "It's the only thing you liked that I baked freshman year. 

Louis looks up at Harry in awe. "You remembered?"

Harry presses a soft kiss to his nose. "As if I could forget."


End file.
